


In The Dark Lands

by Kookaburra42



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Biology, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Family Dynamics, Fluff and Angst, Gen, In the original fic the Valar are angels but I like writing pantheons for some reason, Major Original Character(s), Sauron is not entirely evil in this, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Specifically Maia biology because I am a nerd, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25617262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kookaburra42/pseuds/Kookaburra42
Summary: What if Kaylee and eventually her parents wound up in Mordor somehow?  What if it wasn’t as awful as they thought it was?Strangest of all, what if Sauron still had some good left in him?
Relationships: Sauron | Mairon/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 11





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [An Unexpected Adventure](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15082544) by [Dreamflower](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamflower/pseuds/Dreamflower), [KathyG](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KathyG/pseuds/KathyG). 



> I…I love Mordor that is my only excuse. 
> 
> Kaylee McCloud, Lucy the puppy, and all the McClouds, as well as the story they come from, belong to Dreamflower and KathyG. I am simply borrowing them with permission.

Kaylee clung tightly to the Nazgûl, afraid that if she let go, she would fall. “We’re gonna land now, okay?” it said, its voice a thick Scottish accent. She clung tighter. “I’ll take that as ‘okay’, then,” it sighed. 

The beast eased into a dive, slowly at first, but picking up speed until it pulled up and landed gently. The other Nazgûl landed soon after, Lucy tucked in one arm. “Ren, lat ûs-ta krampâdûr kul-galin?” it asked. 

“Nar, Uvatha, kramp-izg nar ûs zam.” The strange, rough language grated on Kaylee’s ears and she shifted uncomfortably. “Down?” the one she was sitting with asked. 

“Y--yeah.” 

“All right--nar,  _ ghâmul,  _ Morlûl!” The beast dropped to the ground with a loud huffing noise. The Nazgûl slid off awkwardly, muttering under its breath. Once it was safely on solid ground, it pulled Kaylee off the beast so that she could stand. At first she stumbled--three hours straight of sitting aren’t, in general, good for balance--but soon she was standing easily again. 

With a loud sigh of relief, the Nazgûl yanked off its hood. Kaylee gasped in shock; under the hood was a young man, with a shock of red hair, dark eyes, and pale skin. “I didn’t know you had faces!” she blurted, then winced, expecting something bad to happen for what was surely something rude to say. 

Instead, both laughed. The tall one who was holding Lucy set the puppy down and pulled off his hood. He was blonde, with long hair pulled into a bun and Asian features. Kaylee thought he looked a bit like the captain from  _ Mulan.  _ “You wouldn’t be the first to think that,” the redhead said. “Come on, let’s get you up to the Kala.” 

The Kala, as it turned out, was the main tower of the fortress. The taller Nazgûl (who introduced himself as Uvatha), offered to carry her. “It’s a lot of stairs, and you’re…well, not very big,” he said with a shrug. 

The Kala was bustling with activity. Everyone wore different variations of approximately the same thing, and everyone was dressed well. Kaylee shrank closer to Uvatha when they passed a group of monstrous-looking things, all wearing elaborate armor and arguing over something. Lucy shifted in Ren’s arms, whimpering as they climbed higher and higher. 

Eventually they stopped. Uvatha set Kaylee down, reached out, and opened a large door. “Here’s your rooms. They’re just spare bedrooms--we stopped using them after Ren got better ones.” 

Surprised, Kaylee peeked into the  [ room ](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/22/15/be/2215be77e0d8dc81ad01347f0ec04736.png) . It was clean and well-lit--almost cozy. “I get to stay here?” she asked, confused. She had been expecting to be imprisoned.

“Why wouldn’t you get to stay here? We don’t hurt dâgu.” Ren seemed horrified at the idea. 

“Huh?”

“Children. It means children,” Uvatha clarified. “We don’t use Westron very much--Mordor’s common tongue is Black Speech, or as it’s more commonly called, Orcish. By the way--what’s your name?” 

“My name’s Kaylee.” 

“Khaalî.” The little girl winced at the complete mispronunciation. 

“No,  _ Kay _ lee, not  _ Kah _ lee,” she explained patiently. Even after that, though, they both still got it wrong somehow. Kaylee eventually decided to just let it go--clearly, neither would be able to pronounce it well. 

“Well, I guess you should just…make yourself at home. We have to go and explain everything to the higher ups. Hon-lat ârûrz!” Ren said, somewhat awkwardly. With that, both were gone. 

Kaylee walked over to a chair and curled up on it, finally letting out her jumbled emotions in quiet sobs. She cried herself to sleep then, Lucy lying faithfully beside her. 

-

High General Thuringwethil was furious. Never before had she seen such idiocy out of the Nazgûl, not even the two youngest. “How drunk  _ are you _ ?” she roared.    
  


“I’m sober for once,” Ren replied, his usual grin dominating his face.    
  


“That makes everything  _ worse!  _ What, pray tell, possessed you to kidnap a  _ human child?  _ From Arcimbele, of all places!” 

“She was alone, Thuringwethil, and--”

“AND WHAT, MAY I ASK? WHAT, IN THE NAME OF WHATEVER YOU HOLD HOLY, COULD HAVE POSSESSED YOU TO DO THIS?” Her voice became, if possible, even louder as she said this. 

“I…she looked scared, and, well…” Ren shrank in the face of Thuringwethil’s blazing wrath. 

“Is this your ‘I brought home a stray animal’ moment?” the High General shrieked. 

“Yes! Maybe! I don’t know!” 

  
Thuringwethil sighed and massaged her forehead, a habit she’d inherited from her father. “I need to talk to Atya and Amya about this. Go on, the both of you--don’t tell Khamûl, he’ll have your hides for leather! Go on, get!” 

The two fled, grateful that they still had feet to flee on. Thuringwethil was known for her horrible temper (yet _ another  _ trait inherited from her father). 

-

“Atya, you need to sit down and get a stiff drink,” Thuringwethil said. 

“Absolutely not. What is it?” Sauron crossed his arms and raised one sharp eyebrow. 

“Ren and Uvatha.” 

“What have they done now?” the Dark Lord asked, his storm-grey skin paling. 

“They captured a child. A  _ human  _ child.” At this, Sauron paled even more. 

“From…where, exactly?” 

“Rivendell,” Thuringwethil said grimly. Her father placed a hand to his forehead and turned away slowly. 

“You were right. I need alcohol,” he muttered. 

-

Kaylee woke up to the sound of knocking at the door. “Can I come in?” a woman’s silvery voice asked. 

“Y-yes.” The little girl could barely contain her fear--now, she was sure, she was doomed.

The door opened and a strangely tall woman with pale skin, blue eyes, and white hair stepped into the room. “Hello, little one. I have brought you breakfast.” She held out a tray. “I had them make whatever they thought would calm down a human child--I’m sure you’re terrified.” 

Kaylee shrank back. The woman frowned, set the tray on a table, and walked over to her. “Hush, child, you will not be harmed. The Dark Lord has taken you as his ward, and therefore you are, by extension, mine.” 

“Why Sauron? Why not Ren? Or Uvatha?” she asked, remembering the two wraiths who had, if awkwardly, tried to make her feel better. 

“Ren and Uvatha are far too irresponsible--Ren’s a drunk and Uvatha’s half-mad. The only other option was the second of the Nazgûl, and he has…baggage, to say the least.” The woman shook her head. “So Sau and I decided that this would be the best course of action.” 

“Are you…” Kaylee didn’t even want to think about it. 

“His wife? Yes, and happily. I don’t care that the world thinks we’re evil--I love him, and he loves me, and we have a strong daughter.” She smiled. “Even if Thû isn’t perfect, I still love him. We complete each other. Now, break your fast and I’ll find you some fresh clothes to wear.” She stood up and placed a bowl of meat scraps on the ground for Lucy. 

As the woman strode off, Kaylee wished desperately for home, where the language around her didn’t sound rough and harsh, and the people were familiar. 

After saying grace, she peeked at the food and then smiled. Pancakes. Blueberry pancakes! Maybe that was one good thing about Mordor--the food seemed rather similar to her own home. There was also a glass of some kind of juice, which she tasted cautiously. It was just apple juice. 

She ate ravenously, pushing away any thought of what might happen to her as she did so. When she couldn’t eat any more, she picked up Lucy, who had also finished eating, and curled up on the chair. 

The woman returned soon after with a pile of clothes. “Here you go! I’ll show you where to change and explain how to get the clothes on right. You can pick a combination of pieces, all right? And what is your name? I need to know that; names are a powerful thing. Mine is Yóriel, if that makes you feel more comfortable.” 

“I’m Kaylee. Pleased to meet you, Yóriel.” She curtsied. 

“To you and your people, Khaalî.” Yóriel bowed, slightly dipping her head while she pressed a fist to her chest. “And please don’t curtsey. We Umaiar see that as sarcastic and disrespectful.” She smiled again. “Come. I’ll help you into your clothes.” 

Kaylee found that what people in Mordor wore was a lot different than what the Elves wore. She was given a long-sleeved shirt, leggings, socks, and boots first. Then came a blue tunic with two straight panels that reached her knees; one hanging in front, and the other behind, with two identical cuts at the sides up to her hips for easier movement. The tunic had a subtle pattern of golden thread and sleeves that stayed tight until the elbows and then draped to her waist. Both the shirt and the tunic were a bit broad in the shoulders, and she wondered why. 

  
Her hair was tied back in three braids and twined with gold ribbons. She was also given a belt; attached to it were two pouches, one slightly larger than the other. 

“Agh--gah,  _ and  _ now that that’s done, I’ll go and see what I can find for you to do. Then, you should just stay here while Thû and I figure out how to  _ not  _ send the Gratûz into a flying panic.” 

With that, she left the room, and Kaylee was alone again.

-

Thuringwethil had been expecting her mother to ask for help finding toys for the little girl. 

The only problem was that Thuringwethil’s old toys and things from Angband were in Sauron’s observatory. This wasn’t so much of a problem as it was a hindrance; the observatory, or the Hontob Shakhbûrz as it was locally called, was the topmost part of the Kala. 

It was enormous and filled with books, maps, and other things Sauron needed to make his observations. The side facing towards Gondor was made of amber glass enchanted to be clear and easy to see through from the inside. On the outside, however, you might as well have tried to look through a steel wall. There was also a latch that could open one of the glass panels, which Sauron and the other Umaiar made use of when they flew from the tower on wings that spanned twice the length of their bodies. 

  
To here, then, Yóriel walked, even if flying was easier. She opened the door and laughed, shaking her head. “Melda, you look ridiculous,” she said. 

Sauron had collapsed onto a couch, facing away so that all she could see was his short, slightly wavy hair. She walked over and ran a hand through the black and (dark, she noticed) ginger strands, then said quietly, “Can you help me find things for that poor little girl to play with? She’s terrified.” 

“Yes, yes, hang on.” He turned around, blinking fiery eyes slowly as if to catch his bearings. “I know where they are, and they will need some cleaning. I have not touched them in at least a decade.” 

“Of course,” she said. Sauron stood up and made a face. Yóriel felt his irritation as a wave over their bond. 

“I’ll get them.” He walked over to a chest and opened it, dropping down to his knees as he did so. “What sorts of things do you think she’d want?” 

“Human children tend to play with dolls and things like that--oh, yes, definitely, and that, too.” Yóriel took the items from Sauron and smiled at him. “You should meet her.” 

“She’ll panic. I’m not exactly what she’s used to.” 

“You look at least a bit Elvish. I don’t look exactly normal either.” Yóriel held up iron-clawed hands and flashed her fangs. 

“If you’re half-blind and have never seen an Elf, then yes, I do. My ears move, I have fangs, claws--Void, Yóriel, my  _ scars _ \--” his voice rose and hitched.

“Thû, please. She needs to get used to seeing you, and I think it’s best to just rip the bandage off. Besides, I have all those things too; we fought side by side in every battle.” 

  
“Very well,” he sighed, fighting a smile as he remembered the wars of their youth. “I will go with you and meet her.” 

Yóriel grinned. “I knew it.” 

-

“Hey, Khaalî. I brought you some things.” Yóriel stepped into the room, and Kaylee brightened. 

“Hi!” she said. “What did you find?” The Umaia woman smiled at her; clearly, the girl did not mean this in a selfish manner. 

“I brought you a few toys and someone else to talk to. I thought it was for the best for you two to meet early on.” Yóriel set the things she had brought on the table. While Kaylee looked them over, she turned back to her soultied, who stood hidden out of sight next to the door. 

_ Go on,  _ she prompted mentally. He sighed and followed her back into the room. When he saw the child, he stopped. She looked so much like Thuringwethil had as a little girl that it was hard to tell if he was imagining things. Though she did not have his daughter’s extremely pale skin, red eyes, claws, or fangs, the resemblance was striking. 

“Hello,” he said quietly. He had long since learned that though it was useless to try and make his rasping baritone any gentler, he could give it the illusion of gentleness by speaking quietly. 

The little girl looked up and gasped. He stepped back, unsure of whether or not he should leave. Then she grinned. “Woah! You look like some kind of lava monster!” 

  
“A…a  _ what?”  _ He gaped at her, unsure of what to say. On the way there, Yóriel had told him that human children are taught never to curse, which both agreed was both odd and utterly pathetic. This made expressing shock to someone who couldn’t read ears an absolute pain. 

“Like a lava monster!” she repeated. “Can you breathe fire?”

“I…I suppose I could…” Sauron said cautiously. 

“Really?” She looked at him closely. 

“Yes.” He felt even more confused. The whims of children often made no sense to him; although perhaps this was due to his own lack of a childhood. 

“Are you really Sauron? I thought you’d have fangs, or horns, or…well, you  _ do  _ have claws!” 

He bared his teeth. “I have fangs, but no horns. I am not a Valarauka.” 

“But you are a demon, so I thought you might. Do you have wings?” 

“If I want to.” Sauron found it surprising that it was so easy to talk to her. “But I do not know what a demon is.” 

“But you defied God, and fought with Satan!” 

“I…who now?” He had heard of the Valar being referred to as gods, but hearing the word ‘god’ as a name was strange to him. And Satan? He remembered the sashaying, constantly complaining Vala he had fought for and nearly burst out laughing. The name sounded far too menacing for Melkor, who had always been tiny and, dare he say it, whiny. Over their soul bond, he could feel Yóriel’s similar confusion. Both quickly ran through their memories of Angband and Utumno, and came up with nothing.

“How do you not know who God is?” she asked, looking horrified. “Weren’t you an angel? Wait--isn’t Satan called Melkor or Morgoth here?” 

“Melkor, please. It’s hard to reconcile the name Morgoth with one of my closest friends.” 

“Oh. Was he ever mean to you?” 

“A bit annoying, maybe, but never mean.” He smiled and shook his head. “The idiot had  _ wings _ and kept screeching for me to get things for him because he couldn’t reach the top shelf.” 

“I heard the Elves call God ‘Eru’. Do you call Him that, too?” 

“Yes. He’s not the  _ only  _ god in Arda, you know.” Sauron realized that perhaps the girl was one of the clan McCloud he had had a vision of. They were from another world, he remembered, though evidently, their world had been made by one being. “Are you of the clan McCloud?” he asked. 

“Yep! My full name is Kaylee Anne McCloud, but everyone here calls me Khaallî!” 

“Then you are from another world; your God made that world, and here the Valar and Eru made Arda.” 

“How do you know?” she asked. 

“I don’t truly know how to explain it.” He wasn’t lying; there was no way to explain how he knew; the word ‘vision’ was stunningly lacking. She frowned, and then brightened again.

“That’s okay! Where did you get these, by the way? Do you just have toys lying around?” She gestured at the carved wooden figures and cloth dolls. 

“He made them,” Yóriel said, clearly proud of what her husband had done. “For our children.” 

“They are from Angband; that was after Thuringwethil had stopped trying to eat everything in sight.” Kaylee’s eyes widened and she touched the toys more gently. Sauron laughed. “They are not meant to be touched so gently; they are toys, not precious artifacts.” 

“How old are they?” Kaylee asked, picking up a small figure, carved to look like Gothmog. It even had his battleaxe in its hand. 

“Some are thousands of years old, but I have kept them in good condition. My youngest child used them too, and they are repaired in case this sort of thing happens.” 

“You really make things like this?” 

“Yes. I was first a blacksmith. Carving in wood is often a good way to make a plan.” 

“I learned to sew in Rivendell! I even made my own nightgown!” The little girl looked immensely proud as she said that, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride for her as well. 

“That is quite impressive. I could teach you how to make other things as well, if you would like.” 

“Really? When can you start teaching me?” 

“Perhaps tomorrow. Today, you should simply get adjusted to your new surroundings and look around.” 

Kaylee smiled widely. “I’ll take you to the library, and you can play there. Hoarmurath might be able to watch you,” Yóriel said. “Come, let’s not take up any more of Thû’s time.” 

Sauron nodded. “That may be for the best. I have a meeting with the Mouth in twenty minutes.” 

They each went their separate ways after that.  _ This might not be so bad after all!  _ Kaylee thought. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? You aren’t quite sure yet? Tell me!
> 
> Kaylee’s clothes are based a bit off of Katara’s from Avatar: The Last Airbender. I love the style of her warm weather clothes!
> 
> Translations:  
> Ren, lat ûs-ta krampâdûr kul-galin? - Ren, do you think he will be angry at us?
> 
> Nar, Uvatha, kramp-izg nar ûs zam. - No, Uvatha, I do not think so. 
> 
> Ghâmul! - down!
> 
> Kala - fortress (the lower parts are called the Gukh, which means city)
> 
> Dâgu - Children, the plural form of “dâg”. To pluralize in Black Speech, you add on a ‘u’ unless it ends in a vowel, in which case you add on a ‘z’.
> 
> Thû - Sauron’s nickname. Only his close friends and family use it. 
> 
> On my interpretation of the Valar: 
> 
> Okay, my interpretation is very different from the original’s, so let me clear a few things up. Tolkien describes the Valar as gods in several places I think, and I imagine Eru as sort of a Gaia/Uranus figure, rather than God as I think of Him. I really like playing with the idea of multiple gods in fictional universes, so I just went with that interpretation. This comes from, I think, my love of mythology. So the McClouds are now officially from a different world, and I will go into religion in Mordor later because my dudes my cat is just…determined to cuddle. 
> 
> Comments are lovely, as is advice!
> 
> [here is my tumblr](http://councilofelrond.tumblr.com)


	2. Integration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thuringwethil reveals something important. Kaylee learns a new language. Khamûl finds out something interesting and possibly dangerous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Garg this is long for me…ah well it was totally worth it! Enjoy!
> 
> Edit: Towards the end, Khamûl says that ‘the youngest boy is clearly too young for such things’, which contradicts Thuringwethil saying Kaylee needs to learn to fight at age 5. Since Joey (the youngest boy) is nine years old and therefore half-grown by Mordor’s laws, he should already be experienced with some kind of weapon. I have therefore corrected this to say that he is ‘considered’ too young.

Kaylee was hungry, and according to Yóriel, there wouldn’t be another formal meal until sundown. Hoarmurath, a white-haired, violet-eyed man with a mellow voice, had said that perhaps he might be able to find something for her to eat. 

She was waiting for him at the moment, playing with the toys Sauron and Yóriel had given her and taking in the surroundings.

The wood-paneled walls were carved intricately with images of vines of roses. She wondered why this was, and resolved to ask the next person who arrived. 

Talion was quite good at being silent. It was something he had the time to master, after all. But to see a child, a human child, caused such shock that he couldn’t help but hiss in surprise. He had been privy to the story of the little girl’s arrival, and yet to see her in the flesh was a completely different thing.

Kaylee turned around and gasped, horrified. Talion was tall, with black veins and empty eyes. A thick scar ran across his throat, and he was shrouded in a hooded cloak. 

“Are—are you Khaalî?” he asked softly. 

“Yep! Do you know where Hoarmurath is? He went to get me snacks!” 

“I saw him coming this way,” Talion said, dumbfounded. This child was so trusting, so undeniably naïve! How, how could it be possible that this little thing had gained the favor of Sauron, whose very nature it was to scorn the weak? 

“Thanks! You must be Talion; I thought you looked like Yóriel described!” 

“Oh. I see,” he said. The door opened and Hoarmurath entered.  _ Couldn’t be a better time--no, no, Thuringwethil, not now…  _

“Hi, selda!” Thuringwethil crowed, slinging an arm around Talion’s shoulders. Not for the first time, he wished had an Umaia’s height. “Oh, so this is the ashgaz.” She grinned at Kaylee, who smiled back. “‘Mura found you something to eat, I’m just stopping by to find something.” With a last smirk at the undead man, she sauntered off. 

Hoarmurath nodded. “It wasn’t  _ hard.” _ He indicated the box he had brought. “I found weakings and things for you.” 

Kaylee opened the box and grinned. There were a few cookies and bread, as well as a cup of some kind of sauce. “Thanks!” she said. 

“Lat broshan,” he replied, smiling and then returning to what he had been reading. 

Kaylee said grace and then started eating. She found out that the sauce was just tomato sauce, for which she was thankful. One of the cookies even had chocolate in it, which was even better. Once she finished, she stood up and stretched. Looking around, she saw that Talion was ensconced in a chair with a book, and that Hoarmurath was too. 

She went back to playing quietly, then stopped again and decided to look around the library for books with pictures. One had only pictures and told a story about Sauron and someone she thought might be Morgoth. Kaylee shied away from the pictures of Morgoth, for they showed him with a mouth too large for his face and interlocked fangs, as well as shadowy hair, glittering skin, and ruby claws. Sauron looked different too, but the only real differences were that he was paler and had long hair that was completely black. He was also missing the eight vertical scars that ran from his cheekbones to the bottom of his jaw.

Kaylee finished the book and sighed. She was bored, and she didn’t know how to get anywhere. “Hey, Hoarmurath?” she asked, unsure of what else to call him. 

“Yes, ashgaz?” 

“Can I go back to my room now? I’m bored.” 

“I’ll take you there,” he said, standing up swiftly. 

“Okay! May I please take the book with me?” 

Hoarmurath nodded. She had indicated the book and he had assumed that she wanted to take it with her--Westron was nowhere near his first language, and she spoke it exclusively and fast. He resolved to ask his lord to perform some sort of spell that would allow her to learn Orcish; without the knowledge of that language, navigating the Gukh and the Kala would be nigh impossible. 

As they walked, she talked more, and he found himself at a loss for words, his mind unable to keep up with the unfamiliar language. Yes, she must learn Orcish, and fast. 

-

Once the little girl was safely returned to her rooms, Hoarmurath hastened to the Hontob Shakhbûrz to talk to the Dark Lord. 

“Enter,” the familiar voice said. He did so and bowed. 

“My lord, the girl must learn Orcish some time soon--I doubt she will last long without it.” The Dark Lord frowned thoughtfully. 

“And what do you suggest? I do not know exactly how long humans take to learn a language.” 

“I was thinking perhaps some sort of enchantment. I imagine it would speed things along quite well, and--” 

“I agree. I have given this subject thought as well, and I know that language spells are perfectly harmless.” He turned and nodded towards the Nazgûl. “I will talk to the child about it as well; any spell can be harmful to the mind of the person it is cast upon if there is no consent. Dismissed.” 

The Nazgûl bowed and left, glad that the meeting had gone well. 

-

That evening at dinner the Gratûz received quite the shock. Although all of them had seen human children in Mordor--they were in fact quite common--they had never seen one here, in the place where they gathered every evening, and especially not one who only spoke Westron. 

By the time Dûron had done his double take, Sauron’s head was pounding. Why were the two youngest Nazgûl so incredibly stupid? And why, why did Khaalî only speak Westron? Most humans who went to Rivendell spoke at least some Elvish. 

Not only that, but she used words that made not one whit of sense! What was, for example, net flicks? Or a move-E? The first sounded like a fishing trick (dull) and the second sounded like a war strategy. But apparently, they were both forms of entertainment. 

Yet she had a strange charm to her, a lightness rarely seen in Mordor. Even Khamûl, the most stoic and vicious of his Nazgûl, could barely prevent a smile as she talked, and he spoke so little Westron he could barely string together the most simple of sentences. Sauron sighed, watching the little girl talk with Helcayé and Gothmog, both of whom thought she was the most adorable thing alive. It was, admittedly, rather silly to watch the Lord of Balrogs lean over so that a tiny mortal could feel his horns. 

  
Kaylee was greatly enjoying herself. Surprisingly, both of the Valaraukar (as they called themselves) were friendly. The enormous blonde one, Gothmog, even let her touch his horns. She decided that even though the people around her looked scary, they weren’t truly awful. 

Dinner hadn’t been extensive (nothing in Mordor ever was). It was simply something similar to pizza they called sauce-bread, soup with small meatballs and pasta as well as spinach and carrots, some kind of juice, and more of what Hoarmurath called weakings. She hadn’t expected the food to be very good, but she was apparently completely wrong. 

By the end of dinner, Kaylee was starting to yawn, and by the time she was told she had to go to bed, she could barely keep her eyes open. Against his better judgement, Sauron decided to take her to her rooms, since the Balrogs and the Nazgûl were quarreling and everyone else looked exhausted. 

It was evident that she would not be able to keep up with him if she walked, and so he picked her up. By this point, she was already essentially asleep, and to keep her from waking up he hummed a little. Yóriel came with him, saying she would need clothes to sleep in. 

When Yóriel woke her a little to help her change in the adjoining room for that purpose, he stepped outside so as not to intrude. 

When Yóriel had finished helping her with her clothes and presumably showing her how to take them off herself, he heard the little girl call out something that struck him like a blow to the chest. “Is--in Rivendell, Lady Arwen used to sing to me sometimes. C--could one of you maybe…” Her voice trailed off. 

“I can,” Sauron said quietly, stepping into the bedroom. She smiled. 

“Thanks! I was just wondering.” 

“It is all right. I will not suffer because I sang to you.” He sat down by the bed and shifted awkwardly. 

“I don’t have anything in particular I want you to sing,” she said with a yawn. 

“Very well, then…” He went silent for a moment, then the urge overtook him to sing one thing in particular that was both quiet and sad, something that he had near forgotten to time.

And so he sang: 

_ Siúil, siúil, siúil, a rún _

_ Siúil go sochair agus siúil go ciúin _

_ Siúil go doras agus éalaigh liom _

_ I wish I were on yonder hill  _

_ ‘Tis there I’d sit and cry my fill _

_ Til every tear would turn a mill _

_ Is go dté tú mo mhúirnín slán _

_ Siúil, siúil, siúil, a rún _

_ Siúil go sochair agus siúil go ciúin _

_ Siúil go doras agus éalaigh liom _

_ Is go dté tú mo mhúirnín slán _

_ I’ll sell my rock, I’ll sell my reel _

_ I’ll sell my only spinning wheel _

_ To buy my love a sword of steel _

_ Is go dté tú mo mhúirnín slán _

_ Siúil, siúil, siúil, a rún _

_ Siúil go sochair agus siúil go ciúin _

_ Siúil go doras agus éalaigh liom _

_ Is go dté tú mo mhúirnín slán _

_ I wish, I wish, I wish in vain _

_ I wish I had my heart again  _

_ And vainly think I’d not complain _

_ Is go dté tú mo mhúirnín slán _

_ Siúil, siúil, siúil, a rún _

_ Siúil go sochair agus siúil go ciúin _

_ Siúil go doras agus éalaigh liom _

_ Is go dté tú mo mhúirnín slán…  _

-

The morning dawned cold but at least somewhat bright. Kaylee was woken by the loud bell that signalled the first toll. Lucy was also awoken, and started barking. The Kala was already waking up, and she could hear people moving about all around getting ready for the day. She yawned widely and looked around. Her surroundings were still somewhat alien, but they were more familiar than they had been the day before. 

She got up and walked into the large sitting room, looking around at everything again, now that she was more accustomed to Mordor’s strange ways. Suddenly, the door opened, and a woman Kaylee recognized as Thuringwethil stepped inside. 

“Morning! Thought I’d bring you your food, since you’ve met me before. Damn, forgot how tiny you are--you’ll grow, right?” She set the tray she was carrying down as she talked. “Also, Atya said he wants to talk with you at the sixth toll. That, by the way, is midday. Said something about you needing to learn Orcish and fast—fuck, I need coffee, I can normally remember the exact wording. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Also, I wanted to ask if you learned to ride in Arcim--sorry, Rivendell.”

“A bit. I used Mr. Baggin’s pony for my lessons, and my teacher said I was really good!” Kaylee said proudly. 

“Well, we don’t have ponies here, unfortunately; you’ll have to ride a full-sized horse, although I’ll try to find one that isn’t a charger.” Thuringwethil smiled and sat down, motioning for Kaylee to do so as well. When they were both seated, Thuringwethil said, “I’m not going to bother asking if you learned to fight in Rivendell, since obviously you didn’t. However, in Mordor, fighting is something you must learn from a young age. This is especially important for you, since you are now one of the highest ranking people in the entire country.” 

“What?” Confused, Kaylee stared at the tall woman. 

“Atya and Amya declaring you to be their ward essentially means they adopted you. For safety reasons. Which, awkwardly, makes me technically your sister.” Thuringwethil shrugged. “No one ever said it made sense.” 

“I guess not.” Kaylee bit her lip, and her eyes filled with tears. She had just been reunited with her parents, and now she had been snatched off to a strange place and adopted for  _ safety reasons.  _ To make matters worse, she was terrified of what would happen should anyone find out that her siblings were on the Quest. 

Suddenly, Thuringwethil was hugging her and whispering, “Sorry about all of this. I know it’s a mess, and you’re way too young for this. I promise that we’ll try our best to help you get adjusted but it won’t be perfect. Please, please, don’t feel bad. It’s not your fault. Not at all.” 

-

Sauron hadn’t had the time to talk to Khaalî yesterday, and now he could only hope she wouldn’t panic when he asked if he could perform the translation spell. Fortunately, it was simple and painless, with no side effects. He had done it on Orcs, Men, and even the occasional Elf (namely, Nelyafinwë, back in Angband). 

When the sixth toll came, he sighed and looked up from what he was doing. Any moment now, Thuringwethil would bring Khaalî to the Hontob Shakhbûrz. He stood and turned, then hissed in irritation. He had ink on his arms again; a result of the sketches he had been doing for his next project, and there was no time to clean them properly.  _ It is a good thing that the spell does not require my arms to be clean,  _ he thought wryly. And anyway, his skin was a dark enough grey to hide the black ink. 

The door was flung open with a bang and Thuringwethil walked in, her usual strut gone in favor of a steady gait that would allow the little girl to keep up. Khaalî looked a bit nervous, and her eyes darted around as if looking for some sort of trap. “Dad,” Thuringwethil prompted in Quenya. 

“I am not blind.” 

“She is going to panic if you do not speak Westron. Did you not have something to ask her?”

“Very well.” He switched to Westron and said, “I must ask you something. It is of great importance.” 

“Okay,” Khaalî replied quietly. 

“Given that you will likely be staying here a while, it is important that you learn Mordor’s Orcish. However, humans do take a while to learn different languages, and so I propose I perform a spell that will allow you to be fluent in the language within a day. I promise it will not harm you in any way.” 

She looked even nervous for a minute, then smiled. “That sounds okay. Can you do it now?” 

“It will take me maybe ten minutes to set up, so yes.” 

Thuringwethil snorted. “That’s all you needed?” 

“It is a significant thing, onya. I cannot perform the spell without her saying she will allow me to.” 

“Well, then, I’m off. Fucking overlords are at it again.” She gave a tired grin and left. 

Sauron’s ears flicked in irritation. “Well, then, I suppose I shall get started. Do not break anything—actually, no touching, please.” He turned on his heel and strode off to find the proper supplies for the spell. 

-

Kaylee sat down, bored. She wasn’t supposed to touch anything, and Lucy had had to stay back in her rooms because Thuringwethil had said she might break something. Fortunately, it was only a little while later when Sauron had everything he needed. 

She looked curiously at the objects in his hands—chalk, three deep blue stones, two plants, and a vial of something that she wasn’t sure she wanted to know about. 

He gestured for her to follow him. “I need to do this somewhere specific. I hope you don’t mind.” 

“I don’t,” she said. When they reached the place he needed, he set the objects down and told her to stand in the center of the area. He then took the chalk and drew an upside down triangle with a line horizontally across it near the tip. At each of the points of the triangle he set one stone, and scattered the leaves of the plants throughout the triangle. 

After doing this, he began to chant the spell under his breath. 

“Zailbûn nokh shâzil, ghashnishi lâmu zamal latob bal shmesh, nâdar za hai tul, agh shrinksha-ulub lâm zog!” At the last word his eyes glowed and a surge of light surrounded them both. 

When the light vanished, the first thing Kaylee noticed was that she had to differentiate between two words when she wanted to say something. The next thing was that she could understand what he was saying, even though he was speaking in Orcish. 

“Are you all right?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yeah,” she answered. “That was weird.”

“Magic is like that. I suppose you should be able to navigate easily enough, now.” 

“I guess.” She felt a little shaky, but that was probably just nerves. 

“If you want, I can take you to find Thuringwethil, and she can watch you.” He watched her closely, likely trying to see if anything was wrong. 

“Can I go back to my room now? I feel a little weird.” 

“Shaky?” 

“Yeah, a little bit…” 

“All right, come on. I’ll take you there, then.” 

-

“High General.” Khamûl’s voice broke through Thuringwethil’s thoughts. 

“Yes?” she said. 

“That group headed here. There are three children with them; two boys and a girl. All of them look similar to Khaalî.” 

“Her siblings, perhaps?” 

“Likely. The eldest boy seems to be the only one who can fight, although the girl is learning the knives. The youngest boy is clearly too young for such things.” 

“Obviously, they all are. Even if they are…”

“Oldest was near to adulthood.” 

“We need to find them and bring them here. And soon.” Khamûl nodded and turned to leave, then stopped. 

“Thuringwethil. Adûnaphel’s campaign will end soon, and…” he trailed off, grimacing. Thuringwethil noticed he’d switched to Rhûnic, a nervous habit he’d never quite shaken.

“You’re worried.” 

“Yes. She has not been heard from, and--” 

“Khamûl, Adûnaphel will be fine. Besides, we have other things to worry about.”  _ You should be with her,  _ Thuringwethil thought ruefully.  _ She needs her blood-brother, especially now. _

“Like that family.” 

“Yes.” 

Thuringwethil heard the door shut and went back to her work. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: 
> 
> Ashgaz - little one  
> Lat broshan - you’re welcome  
> Gukh - City  
> Gratûz - ranks (singular ‘gratû’  
> Weaking - Mordorian slang for any pastry, as pastries are seen as delicate and therefore ‘weak’.
> 
> Zailbûn nokh shâzil, ghashnishi lâmu zamal latob bal shmesh, nâdar za hai tul, agh shrinksha-ulub lâm zog - Learn what was once unknown, speak in tongues that you might grow, to be amongst the people here, and understand their language clear
> 
> Notes:  
> Sauron’s song is Siuil a Rún (the Celtic Woman version) and this version belongs to them. 
> 
> The heights of Sauron and his family are as follows: Sauron is 7’6”, Thuringwethil is 7’, and Yóriel is 7’. Gothmog is 8’ and Helcayé is 7’3”. Yeah. Umaiar are tall.
> 
> Also, the way Balrogs are portrayed in this is based mostly on headcanons because there isn’t a lot of information about them.
> 
> One last thing: Talion is the main character of the video games Shadow of Mordor and Shadow of War. He really is undead; although I do take some liberties from the game in this story, so stay tuned! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment; they brighten my day!


	3. Tuluo (To Bring Together)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Nazgûl kidnap Steve and Gail McCloud. Sauron and Yóriel are confused by humans once again, and Kaylee is just happy to see her family. Meanwhile, Jennifer has a strange dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY IMPORTANT NOTE: Please go back and reread the chapters before this; if you don’t, some of the things here (such as Yóriel) may not make sense, as they are new additions.

To say that Steve and Gail were worried would be an understatement. Their daughter had been missing nearly a week and they feared the worst. Only praying calmed their worries; God seemed to be telling them that wherever she was, Kaylee was fine. 

To make matters worse, Lucy was also missing. Although no signs of a struggle had been found, Lord Elrond had said that he could feel something dark nearby; something very dark.

“Nazgûl. It’s a wonder there wasn’t any blood,” one of the guards had said. “Perhaps they took her prisoner, though that is not something to hope for in the least.” 

Steve and Gail kept searching anyway, often taking Megan with them. The little girl had been devastated at the loss of her sister. She’d cried for hours; nothing anyone had said had calmed her down.

Today, their search was interrupted by a loud, ghostly shriek. Then another. The horses were spooked; one tried to bolt, only barely reined in by Steve. 

A beast swooped down and landed, growling. From its back slipped a hooded man. He had a sword strapped to his leg, and his hands were covered in clawed gauntlets. He wore black boots and a knee-length tunic split at both sides up to his hips. Before either had a chance to react, he’d darted forward and snatched Megan from her mother’s arms. Megan screamed and reached desperately for her parents. Her eyes shine with tears. “Damare!” The man snarled. 

Another of those terrifying beasts landed. Its rider was taller than the first, but only slightly. “Khamûl. Mûbajâmul.” The coarse language only made Megan more panicked. Steve and Gail felt helpless. Both men were armed and likely extremely dangerous. 

“Skai, Mûrazor, lat shnik, gunar bolkum-izg!” 

“Khamûl—”

“Htol lat!” The shorter man, Khamûl, apparently, sounded furious. 

The taller one, Mûrazor, raised his gauntlet-covered hands in apology. Then, in Westron, “Come with us and no harm will come to your child.” As if to emphasize this, Khamûl brought a knife from his cloak to Megan’s throat. She started crying in earnest. 

“Why?” Steve asked. _God, please, help us!_ he prayed.   
  


“The Dark Lord has ordered your capture. We are to bring you to him alive. Oh, wait, never mind. He said nothing about you being unharmed.” A third beast landed as Mûrazor said this. “Dendra. Snabatazu krul.” 

The third man nodded, launched himself forward with Mûrazor right at his heels, and Steve and Gail knew no more.

-

Gail woke up first, as they landed. She took in her surroundings with mounting confusion; she wasn’t in a cell, but what looked to be a hospital of some kind. 

“Oh, good, you’re up. We were starting to worry,” a woman’s voice said. Gail sat up and looked over at her where she stood, a towering shadow seemingly filled with malice and yet not. The woman had deathly pale skin, black hair tied up in a bun, red eyes, and claw tipped hands clasped neatly in front of her. From her side hung a sword. As the hint of a smile touched her face, she revealed white fangs, and her large, pointed ears flicked. 

“Where am I?” Gail asked. “Who are you?” 

“Barad-dûr’s healing ward. I am Thuringwethil, Tar-Dúrauk of Mordor. Your husband and daughter have also awoken. Your daughter is weak; she weeps endlessly, and no words soothe her.” 

“She’s not weak. She’s three years old, and she was just kidnapped at swordpoint,” Gail defended. 

“You make a fair point. Now, if you wish to see your family, you may. I must go. I have a meeting.”   
  


“Where are they?” 

“The next room on the right. Go on.” Thuringwethil strode towards the door, then paused. “Do not expect your husband to be welcomed in Mordor. His kind have burned and murdered their way through our people, even in peacetime.” With that, she was gone. 

-

Their reunion was cut short by a knock at the door. “The Dark Lord wishes to see you. Clothes will be provided for you.” The door opened and a young woman carrying clothes in a large basket entered, followed by a man around her age. 

“Brosh. I am able to speak Westron, which is why I am here. Gaal ob McCloud, I will help you and Magân dress.” 

“I also speak Westron,” the young man said. “And I am here for Stîv ob McCloud.”

“All right,” Steve said. “What are your names, then?”

“I am Quîlagon, and this is Pagojdrôt,” the man said. The woman nodded and touched her fist to her heart. 

“Pleased to meet you,” Steve said. He looked at Gail. She looked extremely flustered. _I think we both are,_ Steve thought ruefully. 

Pagojdrôt worked in total silence as she braided Gail’s hair and helped her into at least three layers of tunics, a fur lined cloak, and tall black boots. 

Quîlagon worked in silence as well, though he muttered at Steve’s short hair. It seemed that both men and women wore the same things in Mordor, though women had more elaborate hairstyles and men’s tunics were a bit shorter. 

Gail was horrified when the outfits turned out to only be complete with daggers, especially that they would give one to Megan. 

“It is for her safety,” was the only response given.

When they arrived outside the dining hall, they heard a young girl laughing loudly. “Khaalî! Thlûk!” a man’s hoarse baritone said.

“Akh, akh, yentaro.” 

The door was opened by two sullen looking guards. Inside were a woman Gail recognized as Thuringwethil, another woman with white hair tipped with black, and—

The man holding Kaylee had to be at least seven and a half feet tall, with storm-gray skin, a sharp, severe, face, and wavy dark hair tipped with ginger. He wore a crown, as did the white-haired woman. _Sauron._ It had to be. 

“Ah. You grace us with your presence.” His voice was the voice they’d heard scolding Kaylee, and it was now clipped and emotionless. He nodded, fiery eyes surveying them with interest. 

Unsure of what else to do, Steve bowed and Gail curtseyed, though she struggled to do so without skirts. Sauron’s face immediately hardened. “Do not curtsey. It is disrespectful here.” 

“Oh. I apologize; I didn’t know that.” Steve thought Gail looked as nervous as he felt. _Sauron is certainly intimidating!_

Megan took one look at Sauron and burst into tears again. “Don’t worry, Megan! He won’t hurt you!” Kaylee said. “See, I’m fine!” 

“Khaalî,” Sauron said quietly. “It is alright. She is, if I am correct, only three.”

“You’re correct,” Thuringwethil replied. 

Kaylee smiled at both of them. “Can I show them what I’ve been working on? Please please please?” 

“Akh,” The white-haired woman said. 

Kaylee pulled out a block of wood that was taking shape into some kind of wolf. “Yentaro taught me how to carve wood! And to draw! He says I’m getting better every day! So does Yóriel!” 

“You are, onya,” the woman said with a smile. “I, by the way, am Yóriel. And before you ask, Sauron and I are married, yes.” She and Sauron exchanged a look, then: “Ah, and Thuringwethil is our daughter.” 

Sauron looked suddenly proud. “And a very strong one at that.” 

“Atya, by the time I was able to, I had killed several times and you were teaching me how to lead armies,” Thuringwethil said, clearly fighting a smile. 

“She is her father’s daughter,” Yóriel added, “Although she has my ability to manipulate blood.” 

“Ew!” Kaylee shrieked. “Htol, that’s gross.” 

“Khaalî,” Sauron reprimanded. “Humans are not fond of cursing.” 

“What does ‘htol’ mean?” Steve asked. He did _not_ want his daughter to start swearing. 

“Literally it means the word fuck.” 

Gail felt an uneasy feeling bubble in her stomach. “How’d she learn that word?” 

“I imagine she learned it from anyone around here. Mordorians are not shy about swearing. She could have heard it from me; I am told I have quite the foul mouth.” Sauron’s lips twitched. “Especially when working. Do not worry, she has not yet been to the forges.” 

“Yet?” Gail asked. “I’m sorry, I really don’t think a five year old should be doing things like this.” 

“Then you will not be pleased to learn that she has begun to learn to fight.” Thuringwethil arched a brow. 

“We’re not pleased, no,” Steve said firmly. Gail nodded agreement. Again, Sauron and Yóriel exchanged a look. 

“I must assert that she will not be safe here lest she learn to fight.” Sauron’s tone brooked no argument, and was laced with a tinge of disgust. 

-

Sauron made a mental note to visit the dungeons later. He longed to rip something apart, to destroy. Humans were so weak! He felt the same disgust from Yóriel; even tiny Khaalî was adept at fighting, unusually so for her level of experience. Yet he doubted her mother would be as strong. Human women were often taught to be gentle and meek. Neither was a quality Sauron had any use for; gentleness towards any but your ruckus or clan was abhorred by all of Melkor’s folk, and meekness…you may as well just build your own funeral pyre and save him the trouble. 

Besides that, by all rights those who bore children should fight to protect their families. It was only natural. He recalled once more fighting beside his soultied in battle; how they’d interwoven their strength and become unstoppable, especially after Draugluin’s death, when their grief had contorted into all-consuming hatred. 

He eyed Gaal closely as they ate. She didn’t look like she had ever wielded a sword or any other weapon. _Teach her,_ Yóriel said over their bond. _It is never too late to learn._

_You should teach her,_ he replied, _she will likely trust you more than me._

_Hm…Yes. I will._ She smiled at him. Then a wave of emotion: _confusion, determination, happiness, frustration._

  
  


_Nerves, determination, frustration, confusion at frustration,_ was his response. 

_I suppose I’m frustrated by them. They are so different from anyone else I’ve ever met…_

_I understand that. You rarely went with me when I went to visit the humans, after all._

They exchanged a glance. Both felt weary; after their eons of life, it was only to be expected. 

-

The people eating with them were strange, that was certain. Gail had felt unable to carry on a conversation even with the women there; all spoke with crass language and drank heartily. Two teenagers sat with them, a boy and a girl. They were apparently only a year older than Kevin, and already training for military careers! The boy, introduced as Agranarpau, was apparently the next High General of Mordor once Thuringwethil grew tired of the role. The girl was the best sorcerer in Mordor, and training under the highest ranking Nazgûl. 

Next to Steve was a young red-haired man named Ren, who drank heavily and laughed loudly at almost everything. He had apparently been partially responsible for Kaylee's capture.

Next to Gail, on the other hand, was a woman named Ioreth and her husband, Talion. They had announced at once that neither of them were alive and really didn’t want to be, then proceeded to seamlessly blend in with everyone around them. 

A woman named Adûnaphel who was apparently mute spoke only in sign language to Khamûl, her blood-brother, while a tall blonde man named Uvatha joked with Ren. Sauron and his wife stared unblinkingly at each other for several minutes, then began speaking normally, but exclusively in Orcish. 

Kaylee seemingly understood everything that was said in the language, often interjecting things like, “Akh, agh zamal uludhu,” or, “Nanar-izg atâr.” 

After dinner, many people simply went to bed. Yóriel and Sauron took the McClouds to their rooms. Kaylee was fast asleep, and Sauron carried her easily. _She’s probably a lot smaller than his children were, anyhow,_ Gail thought ruefully. 

Kaylee’s room was adjoined to Gail and Steve’s, and Megan would be with Kaylee. Sauron and Yóriel slept elsewhere, obviously. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please give me feedback! That’s what helps me improve!
> 
> Translations:
> 
> Damare! - Shut up! I used Google Translate for this word, but if anyone who speaks Japanese would like to correct me, please do!
> 
> Mûbajâmul - Stay calm.
> 
> Skai - exclamation, the equivalent of ‘gah’ in Orcish.
> 
> Shnik - son of a bitch, fucker. Kind of a catch-all insult.
> 
> Gunar bulkum-izg! - I do not need help.
> 
> Htol lat! - This just means ‘fuck you!’ 
> 
> Snabatazu krul - Get them.
> 
> Tar Dûrauk - High General
> 
> Thlûk - stop 
> 
> Akh - Yes
> 
> Yentaro - Adoptive father, specifically for a girl. Used here as a sort of title meaning ‘protector’ or ‘guardian’
> 
> Onya - my child, a term of endearment
> 
> Soultied - Maia term for a spouse. Gender neutral, comes from a headcanon.


	4. Adjustments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Gail are still unsure about this. Sauron is disturbed by an outside force. Gail has a lesson. Someone is ill, and someone falls out a window. Sauron uses his wings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was quick! :) After this, I’m going on hiatus while I write my other story, Ever On And On. Enjoy!

Kaylee sat up in bed at first toll with a yawn. She was tired after yesterday’s lessons, and her arms were sore from wielding a sword and then carving for a while. Lucy bounded over, tail wagging furiously. Kaylee giggled and hugged the puppy with a smile. Then she remembered. 

_ Mommy and daddy and Megan are here! I can’t wait to show them what I learned!  _

She looked over at where Megan was starting to wake up. The younger girl looked like she had slept well, though she was probably still tired. Kaylee got up and walked over, gently shaking her sister awake. Megan looked up. “Huh?” she asked.

“It’s time to get up! I’ll help you get dressed, then we can get mommy and daddy!”

Megan brightened. “Okay!” 

-

Steve and Gail were woken by the thunderous tolling of a bell, as well as by Kaylee barreling into them. “Come on! It’s time to get up; breakfast starts soon!”

As Kaylee chattered, Steve shook his head. He remembered last night, as well as who they’d met.  _ Lord, please help us stay strong in this difficult situation!  _ he prayed. Thinking of the disdainful looks Sauron and his wife had exchanged when he had said he wasn’t happy with Kaylee learning to fight, he sighed. 

Gail glanced at him after Kaylee had skipped off again. “I really don’t like this,” she said quietly. “I mean, the older children learning to defend themselves is one thing. But Kaylee and Megan?” She shook her head. “I just don’t like it.” 

“I know, hon. I feel the same way. But remember that these people probably see kids that age fighting as normal. Thuringwethil has probably been using a sword since she learned to walk!” 

“True. Still, I worry. Those two teenagers—remember them? They said they were sixteen—a year older than Kevin!—and they were training to be in the military! And Sauron’s wife said something to me about me learning to fight with a sword.” 

“That might be necessary here. I’ll probably be learning my way around a weapon as well.” He smiled. “Just think; we’re catching up to our five-year-old!” 

-

Breakfast was a spread of pastries called weakings, coffee (which the Mordorians called ‘waking black’), and fruit. Steve and Gail took some of everything, as did Kaylee and Megan. Kaylee said something in Orcish to Thuringwethil when she saw Sauron with a journal under one arm and a large mug of coffee in the other. Thuringwethil chuckled; clearly, Kaylee had made a joke. 

“We ought to say grace,” Steve reminded the family. They all held hands, and Steve murmured, “Thank you, Lord, for our safety and this good food. Please bless us and everyone here, as well as the food we are about to eat. In Jesus’ name, amen.” Gail, Kaylee, and Megan echoed him. 

The others looked confused. 

“Who is this Lord you pray to?” Talion asked. “I have heard of many gods; this one is unfamiliar.”

“We only have one God,” Steve explained. “He is the one we’re praying to.” 

“Don’t you pray before meals?” Gail asked. 

Sauron tilted his head. “Why pray when you are someone people pray to?” Yóriel nodded, confusion clear on her face. 

Talion smiled. “Where Ioreth and I come from, there is a high god, Eru, fourteen middle gods, the Valar, and innumerable low gods, the Maiar.” He sighed. “The dead have no gods. All have abandoned us.” 

A bit alarmed, Steve and Gail exchanged a glance. Eventually, everyone went back to their breakfast. 

Gail tried each of the pastries in turn. She was pleasantly surprised when one turned out to have chocolate in it. Another was a sort of pie with a strange taste to it; like pumpkin mixed with a kind of alcohol. There were also rolls and dumplings stuffed with vegetables and meat. It all tasted quite good.

“Eat as much as you can now,” Kaylee advised. “They don’t eat lunch.” Gail thought that was strange, but maybe that was so they could get more work done without stopping. 

She finished and watched everyone else eat. The Umaiar ate strangely, dropping things into their mouths and ripping them apart with their fangs. All the others are relatively normally, save for Talion and Ioreth, who barely ate at all. 

Meanwhile, Steve found himself talking to Uvatha, the lowest ranked Nazgûl. He was a horseman and was eager to discuss his area of expertise with Steve. He noticed that Kaylee had made her way over to Sauron and was asking a question. His face remained emotionless as he answered, though worry flickered over his face. 

He stood up abruptly and stalked over to Steve and Gail. “I heard from Khaalî that you worry about her learning to wield a sword. You have nothing to fear; she only uses blunted weapons for now.” He touched his own sword. “I would not trust a human child this young with a sharpened blade.” Yóriel also walked over just then.

“Speaking of weaponry, Gaal, we have decided I will be teaching you the blade.” Yóriel’s tone brooked no argument. “This is Mordor. You will learn, or you will likely die.” 

-

The ‘grace’ said by the McClouds was unsettling to the Umaiar, who now stood together in the Hontob Shakhbûrz. Gothmog leaned with his arms crossed against a bookcase, while Helcayé stood with her hands on her hips. Yóriel leaned with her ankles crossed against a wall. Sauron stood in the middle of the room, his right hand tapping against the table. “They did not call upon Eru,” Sauron said finally. “Nor any of the Valar.” 

“That much is obvious,” Gothmog rumbled, his deep bass filling the room easily. 

Helcayé grunted. “Not Melkor, either. This thing was older. Stronger.”

“Indeed.” Yóriel looked ill. “I could feel Talion and Ioreth’s blood racing. This was…strange. Not from our world.” 

“Khaalî mentioned this her first day here. This thing is indeed powerful. Yet it is not malicious; far from it. It is gentle. Curious, even. It touched me briefly. Spoke. Its voice was eerie, as if all the world spoke at once in a cave where it echoed. It said something…strange…” Sauron’s ears pressed against his skull. Gothmog eyed him. 

“What did it say, brother?” 

“It spoke in Valarin.  **_Antakhankoi,_ ** it said first. The rest was almost a vision, but not quite. I saw all possible outcomes of this war; in all but one, I am to die.” 

“The other?” Yóriel asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“We make peace with the enemy. We all live. Talion and Ioreth die and are reunited with their son.”

“How can we bring this future about?” 

“By capturing the halflings. Thuringwethil is also captured, although by the Gondorians.” 

“A prisoner exchange.” 

“Yes.” 

Gothmog snorted. “Tssss…let’s hope it works…”

-

Gail’s first lesson with a sword was already miserable. Yóriel had begun by demonstrating how to hold a sword, and then instructed Gail to stand still like that for an hour. It had only been twenty minutes, but already Gail’s shoulders ached from holding the sword.  _ Is this how they taught their children?  _ She tried to imagine a young Thuringwethil lifting a sword and standing still for that long; yet somehow, it didn’t seem quite right. She thought it was more likely Thuringwethil had simply imitated her father as he practiced, and learned like that. 

Gail watched as Sauron tossed Steve a crossbow, then turned to his wife and called out something in rapid-fire Orcish. She responded in kind, a brief smile coming over her face. 

“Hmph. You have quite the deep well of patience,” came a teasing voice from behind Gail. “Tell me, how do you hold still so long?” Ioreth stood in front of her, a smile on her face. “My son, Dirhael, could barely stand still when he first had a sword. He kept pretending to kill people.” 

“Ah, I was worse. I would sneak into the sparring halls as soon as I could walk or fly so far and copy my father, often failing. I kept cutting myself! He grew tired of it eventually and began to teach me in earnest.” Thuringwethil’s contralto was also teasing. 

“I did this exercise as well, when I first started. It helps make the posture instinctive; it is not just miserable.” She smiled at Gail, who tentatively smiled back. “It will be worth it when you have your first victory. It feels almost surreal, yet it is truly a great feeling.” Thuringwethil sighed. “I ought to go. I have to make sure Agra and Kez haven’t made any messes…”

“I’ll take care of that. You have meetings with the Overlords tomorrow; get some rest, you’ll need it.” Ioreth nudged Thuringwethil’s shoulder. “You need to relearn how to relax. Gaal, keep this idiot occupied, will you? No work for her today.” 

“All right,” Gail replied, grinning. “I’ll try and keep her occupied.”

“She’s as bad as her parents: all work, no play. It’s ridiculous.” 

“That is most certainly not true. Trust me, my father is quite the rowdy drunk, as is my mother. I’ve been told I am the same way.”

“Only able to relax when alcohol has loosened your inhibitions?” 

“No. A troublemaker.” 

Gail laughed. The two women were rather nice company. Ioreth huffed playfully. Thuringwethil gave Ioreth a look and crossed her arms. “That’s all well and good,” Gail said. “But can someone tell me how long I’ve been standing like this?”

“Almost a full toll. You only have ten minutes left.” 

“How long is a toll?”

“60 minutes.” Gail sighed. 

“I thought it was longer.” 

“No, it is not,” Thuringwethil said. “There are twelve tolls a day; after the twelfth, you are not allowed to eat. Hence ‘break your fast.’” 

“That’s interesting.” 

“I suppose. You get used to it.” She shrugged. “In Angband we kept time by Morgoth’s moods. They were predictable, so we used them.” 

“What a strange way of keeping time!” 

“Angband was strange. Ah, there’s the toll. You’re done with that.” Gail smiled gratefully, setting down the sword and rubbing at her arms. Yóriel walked over to them and nodded at Gail. 

“Good. We will begin each of your lessons this way. Now, try to imitate me; this is a lunge, the most common attack type…”

-

An alarm bell shattered through the relatively calm day. “Another case of the plague!” was all that was said. The sudden flood of people panicked Megan again, especially since three were enormous Orcs, all jostling to find out what had happened to their shield-brother. Three doctors were carrying a fourth Orc, who was screaming at the top of his lungs. He occasionally stopped and coughed, which left bloodstains on the stretcher they were using to move him. Someone screamed. 

“Get out of my way.” Yóriel’s voice was eerily calm as she arrived, Kaylee in tow. The quiet command from Mordor’s Dark Lady caused the crowd to part. “This plague has ravaged the Uruk-hai of Isengard, has it not?” she said. “What part has Saruman to play in this?” 

“Much, I believe,” Sauron replied, eyes distant. “The Isengarders are disgustingly abused. And controlled--yes, controlled…” He fell silent. Then,  **_“Curumo. I see you are a traitor, then…to both and to all, you have pried and broken. Ah, that I could crush you in an instant. My wrath is, you know, as the fires of Mount Doom--slow to come, but explosive when you have angered me enough. Disgusting beast, you wretch unworthy of my aid. Alone, alone you will die, and betrayed you shall be also. I SEE YOU…”_ **

He fell silent again and left, a frown twisting his scarred features. Yóriel rolled up her sleeves. “All right, then. Has anyone seen Talion?” 

“I am here.” The man slipped into the hallway, another Orc and Ioreth with him. “We were in the library discussing…her.” 

“We must tend to this one now. He is gravely ill. Khaalî, where are your parents?” 

“We’re right here,” Steve said. Yóriel nodded. 

“Watch her. Magân is, I believe, with Thuringwethil or Gothmog in the library. Go. I have work to do.” As she, Talion and Ioreth left, their voices faded. The Orc stayed behind. 

“Supposed to keep an eye on you lot,” he said gruffly. His voice was a low rumble, almost ugly but not quite. He was around Yóriel’s height, and he was powerfully built. His eyes were a glinting yellow, and he had hair to his waist pulled back in a tight braid. He didn’t look very friendly, yet Kaylee seemed completely fine with him. 

_ I suppose we should get used to her being so brave,  _ Steve thought.  _ She seems to be fine even around Sauron, after all! _

“Girbizgu ukhsûru za Hontob Shakhbûrz?” Kaylee asked, eyes wide. Then she groaned. “Ugh, sorry, I’m used to Orcish. I meant to ask if we can go to Sauron’s observatory. Please, please, can we? It looks so cool looking down from up there!” 

“All right,” Steve said with a laugh. “But we should go get Megan, first. Where is the library?” 

The Orc groaned. “Damned  _ shara-hai.  _ Can’t fuckin’ find  _ anythin’...”  _

Gail frowned.  _ Now we know how Kaylee learned that word!  _ “Please don’t use language like that.” 

“Right, sorry. Damned  _ Men,  _ then.” 

“No, I meant words like ‘damned.’” 

“Sorry, won’t do that.” 

-

When they made it to the library, they saw Megan listening raptly to a story Gothmog was telling her. 

_ Once, long ago, there was a great and powerful King of Darkness. He ruled with an iron fist, and those under his rule feared him enough that they didn’t rise up against him. His name is remembered only as Morgoth, but it is said he had others once.  _

_ After many centuries of the Elves and Men battling his forces, his brother, the King of gods, swept down from his mountain throne with all the other gods and defeated the King of Darkness. He threw him into the Void, where stars live and none who have gone return.  _

_ The gods chained Morgoth to a world made of diamond, next to a star that pulsed gold to prevent anyone from discovering his prison. Morgoth, furious, let out a scream that went out into the world. Wherever it went, an excess of power went also. _

_ This power made itself known when a Ranger of Gondor died and was resurrected as a Wraith. It is said he transcended mortality and became a god, so that he could never again be with his wife or son. He wrapped himself in death and became its lord, and those who followed him did not ever die.  _

_ Eventually, he hid himself and his followers away so that his enemies could not find them. No one has seen him since, but it is told by some he went to the fortress of a god who had served Morgoth long ago. There he remains, to this day.  _

Megan gasped when the story finished. “Spooky!” she exclaimed. She turned to her parents. “Mommy, daddy, Go’mog tell me spooky story!” Gail laughed. 

“He sure did, honey,” Steve said, amused. The story was a bit chilling, even he had to admit. 

Gothmog turned to the Orc. “The story applies to you too, Lurtz, when you think of it.” 

“I guess. I ain’t dead, though. Just got some weird shit goin’ on with my head.” His fingers twitched, and Steve could have sworn he saw the shadows jolt towards him. 

“You are not titled Bakhgoth for nothing.” 

“Not nothin’. Just a little less than anythin’ important.” Then he sighed. “Have to go. Carnán.” 

Gothmog rolled his eyes when Lurtz had vanished into the darkness. “Damn, he’s depressing. All doom, gloom, and vengeance with that one. All right,  _ inya fírima, _ off you go.” He handed Megan off to her mother and stretched. One of his ears flicked. “Coming, sister, calm the fuck down. Stop swearing at me.” Mumbling under his breath, he stalked off. 

Kaylee grinned. “Now can we go up? Please, please, please?” 

“All right. Do you know how to get there?” 

“Yep! It’s all the way at the top of the tower, so you just have to keep going up!” 

Once they arrived, Kaylee hurtled through the door, yelling in Orcish. “Ai, onya, lat dhakrmpâdûr-izish ash hûndîsum!” was the startled reply. The door opened again, and Sauron exited looking somewhat pale with narrowed eyes. “Enter.” Without another word he stalked off, boots snapping against the ground. Steve and Gail followed him, Gail holding Megan. 

For the first time, Gail truly appreciated just how tall Sauron was. He was easily two feet taller than she was, and Kaylee wasn’t even half his height! Her nerves escalated when she saw the enormous wings attached to his back. 

“What are you going to do?” she asked nervously. 

“I am going to fly out and clear my head. That is all. I trust you know what not to do, Khaalî. I will return shortly.” He moved to the floor-length curved window and slid it open from the right to the left, turned—

And let himself fall. Not twenty seconds later, there was a  _ boom  _ as he opened his wings and shot off. “That doesn’t seem relaxing,” Steve noted drily. 

“Not at all!” Gail shook her head. Then she turned to Kaylee. “Should we close the window?”

“No, it’s fine, mommy.” Kaylee walked over to the open half of the window and leaned over to look down. “Isn’t the view amazing?” 

“It sure is,” Gail remarked, handing Megan to Steve so she could look over the edge with Kaylee. 

Kaylee stepped back. “Wanna see my project, Megan?” Her voice trailed off as Gail stared over the edge. The view was mesmerizing, even eerie as it was. 

_ Crack!  _ A clap of thunder sounded in the sky, and Gail startled. She slipped and fell forwards with a yell, right over the ledge. It started to rain as she fell, and time seemed to slow.  _ God, if this is my time, I only hope I did everything You needed me to!  _ she prayed desperately. 

Suddenly, someone was holding onto her.  _ Sauron must have returned early because of the storm, _ she thought vaguely. 

Then she fainted.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Antakhankoi - lit. to give back life. One of Sauron’s Valarin names; this is not canon, and is reference to him being a necromancer. 
> 
> Girbizgu ukhsûru za Hontob Shakhbûrz? - Can we go up to the Eye of Sauron (local term for Sauron’s observatory)?
> 
> Shara-hai - common men
> 
> Inya fírima - small mortal 
> 
> Ai, onya, lat dhakrmpâdûr-izish ash hûndîsum! - Argh, my child, you will give me a heart attack! (No, Sauron can’t have a heart attack. He’s joking.) 
> 
> Waking black - slang term for coffee. Obvious origins. 
> 
> On other elements: 
> 
> Gothmog’s tale is also told by Muldhognûrz to Ruby Took in my story ‘Ever On And On’.
> 
> The pie featured in this chapter is a real thing: my grandma makes pumpkin pie with metaxa, which cooks off but leaves a distinctive taste. 
> 
> Please leave a comment! They motivate me!


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